Alternative Payment Plan
by All3Unforgivables
Summary: Hermione Granger is in desperate need of help and after one look at the witch she's grown into, Severus is eager to name his price. Fluffish Pwp? with a surprising amount of plot. Semi-OOC 3-5 chapter story.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and core personality traits are the property of J.K. I own nothing, nor do I plan on profiting from using her work. No copyright infringement is intended.

**PWP? with a more plot than I meant to have… **

**This is only going to be a few chapters, 3-5 tops. **

**No Beta for this. Have mercy.**

Alternative Payment Plan

A timid throat cleared meekly from the entrance of the room. Even such a small sound was more than enough to provoke the dark wizard's ire, a well advertised fact, so it went without saying that the interruption was unavoidable and had probably taken several moments of built courage before its attempt.

The potion's master made an exaggerated show of stopping all activity before sneering at the trembling young offender.

"Yes?" he barked dangerously but received only a wide-eyed stare, "For some unfathomable reason you thought it prudent to disturb me during a brewing session. I suppose now would be the appropriate time to provide me with a reason to allow you to keep your job…"

As positively gleeful as Severus Snape was to be free of that cesspool of mediocrity wizarding Britain called a school, there was something about palatable adolescent fear that he would sorely miss should he free himself of it all together. This, and their willingness to work for knuts on the adult galleon was as good a motivator as any to employ them at his Apothecary.

The man-child, who's name he was sure started with a 'T', looked for all the world like he'd rather lose his position than stay in the room with the terrifying wizard second longer.

He twisted at the strings of his black smock, red faced. "I-I'm sorry, Sir. Truly. But there's a woman here to see you… She says it's urgent."

Severus didn't allow his sullen face to betray his curiosity, not over of the unexpected visitor—there was always one dunderhead or another hell bent on the defilement of his long-earned peace—but that the woman in question had to have been either Albus-like manipulative or more petrifying than the vanquished Dark Lord to have talked the boy into summoning him.

"Does she have an appointment?" he asked as if he didn't already know. As he had never before accepted an invitation to such a meeting, the odds were unlikely.

T-_something_ gazed down at his shifting feet, "Well, _no_, Sir. But she was _adamant_ that she speak with you."

The once-Death Eater felt his neck grow warm, his nearly black eyes burring holes into the poor shelf stocker. "If you are not out of my sight and excusing the pushy chit from my establishment in thirty seconds, I will do far worse than just fire you."

To his unending astonishment, the boy didn't move. For a moment, Severus considered that the fumes from his newest trial brew may exhibit hallucinogenic properties.

"I-I'm sorry, Master Snape, but the lady drew her wand on me when I tried to turn her away," he squirmed nervously, teetering on the door frame as though he were unsure which direction held the most likelihood of bodily harm, "If you don't want to see her, I'd like to request use of the floo in your office to call the authorities."

That sufficiently peaked the hard wizard's interest. He'd show that little cow what happened to witches that attempted to throw their weight around in his place of business. Probably another reporter…

"What did she say her name was?" He grabbed a nearby rag to wipe his long fingers clean of the fresh rabbit liver he'd been slicing.

"She wouldn't tell me, Sir. In fact, she very intentionally omitted it."

Someone who knew he would refuse an audience with, Snape growled. That hardly narrowed the list, he loathed half of the wizarding world and had made that crystal clear since he'd survived the war by the skin of his crooked teeth.

"_Well_," he hissed, "What does she look like, you dolt?"

He watched with incredulity as the young man blushed, so clearly _not_ from the embarrassment of being insulted, "Honestly, Sir? She's beautiful. The most beautiful witch I think I-"

"Oh for, fuck's sake," Snape threw the soiled towel on the boy's starry-eyed face and pushed him out of the way to walk into the front supply room. "Make yourself useful and put a stasis spell on my work. If anything spoils, its coming out of your wages."

"You really shouldn't yell at him like that," a prim, hauntingly familiar voice trilled from directly behind him, "Such a nice kid."

Interestingly enough, if it weren't for that horrid voice—that self-satisfied pitch of book-worm he'd had thrust, unsolicited, upon him every time he asked a question during the last six years of his torturous teaching career—the potions master would have been hard pressed to recognize the witch leaning across the counter of his shop like she owned the place.

Had he not heard it, all he would have seen was a breathtaking creature with huge golden eyes and legs for miles… long, silken waves of hair and a waist he could probably wrap his hands all the way around, a stark contrast to the huge breasts she had bouncing around up top. Even a man who sought out sexual gratification less often than the seasons changed could appreciate a female built like that.

But that_ fucking voice. _

The Granger chit. The brains and balls of The Golden Trio and one of several people Severus Snape would rather _Kedavra _himself than be in the company of ever again. If it hadn't been enough having to protect their careless arses for years of his wasted existence, they had been seemly unavoidable after the completion of his coerced mission.

They were the saviors, the light… the personification of all that was good and the most _profound_ reason Severus regretted pulling his bloody body off of the floor of the shrieking shack and appariting himself to Saint Mungo's to go on living in a world that worshiped whelps like them.

He probably would have known that Granger had grown into a sodding super model if he hadn't canceled his subscription to _The Daily Prophet_. But after the Death Eater trials, including his own, naturally, the paper had turned into _The Daily Chronicles of the Golden Trio_ and he couldn't stomach the sight of one more picture of the pauper and the bookworm sucking face in various locations.

His annoyance was tangible, there was no stopping that, but he refused to allow her to see how deeply she affected him. He sneered down his large nose at her for the first time in five long years.

"Of course," Snape drawled lazily, "A pushy, insistence witch with the audacity to come into my domain and draw her wand in threat," he listed tersely, "Had he not mentioned beauty, I may have guessed. I should have known he was speaking with the adolescent propensity to get wood for anything with a set of breasts."

Unlike her two henchmen, who would no doubt be lifting their wands with hot-blooded indignation and the misconception that they could _possibly_ best him in any form of hex play, the stunning witch looked entirely unaffected.

Ever the quick minded assessor, something that even years of post-war life would never take from him, he noticed easily the tired set of the witch's eyes, the way her now carefully controlled locks sat askew in areas that likely meant she'd been running her fingers through them anxiously. She hid it well of course; easy, halo-like glow, poise and sophistication of a very young but extremely intelligent female.

But he knew.

This was no carefree war heroine basking in the rays of international glory, come to poke fun of her old, reclusive tormentor.

"It's good to see you too, Professor," she tapped her wand casually against the counter, cool as a house cat, "You're looking well."

His jaw clenched with restraint. Severus looked nearly exactly the same as when the little tart and her friends had dubbed him the 'greasy dungeon bat', say for the grotesque scars around his neck left by the Dark Lord's only love; longish oil slick hair, hook nose and deathly pale skin. He even kept his signature black robes. The dark wizard felt no need to change his persona over the years, only the individuals he associated with; a decidedly small, purely necessary group of people.

"See here, Miss Granger- or perhaps its Mrs. _Weasley_ now," he didn't care, couldn't be bothered even pretending.

"Grange. Divorced," she wiggled a naked left hand at him.

"Terribly unfortunate," the older man hissed, "But I'm _afraid_ I'm going to have to ask you to leave. If it is business you have come here to discuss, there are a great number of other reputable Apothecaries that would be quiet capable of helping you," his tone grew impossibly dark, "But understand this, you pompous little brat… I am a busy man and will never make concessions for you, no matter how many times you've posed half nude on the cover of Witch Weekly or how grand your cult following—if you bother me again I will deal with you the way I was never permitted when you were just a bucktooth, book regurgitater."

This time, he was unsurprised when the object of his scorn held her ground. Obedience towards him was a part of her make-up conveniently left out when the girl's thirst for the approval of authority was developed. Not even time would change that.

Snape sighed and pulled his wand, as if hexing her out the door wouldn't be the highlight of his year, but was stunned— as much as he was capable of such surprise—when Granger calmly placed he tip of her own vine-wood tool against the flesh of over her heart, symbolically, the muggle equivalent of holding a loaded gun to one's temple.

"If you don't help me, you'll have taken away my only reason to live and I see no use to continue on after this chance is exhausted," she explained carefully, bright eyes wild.

He thought it positively the most idiotic move in the history of strategy. The man leaned his sinewy, long frame against the wall in back of him with the inner stirrings of something a kin to delight.

"I could scarcely think of anything that would bring me more joy, Miss Granger."

The muscles of her shoulders tighten rigidly, the shock of someone that has misread the character of their opponent. Severus Snape was _not_ a kind man. His honor had driven him to do things that happened to result in movement against the Dark Lord but if it had been Albus or the Order that had so deeply wronged him, his wrath against the Light would have been equal in its intensity.

His baritone chuckle met a flash of dismay that crossed her delicate features. "You have spent too long surrounded by people that care whether or not you take in your next breath, _princess_. I suggest you return to them, as you will find no such sympathies here."

She lifted her little chin in defiance but held strong and tried another method of argument, "Ginny Potter knows I've come here. She'll send someone when I don't return and if I die in your shop, professor, you will be in the center of a media storm that would rival that at the end of the war."

This was more up to par with her level of cunning, in his opinion. The little bitch that snuck passed his wards and stole from his potion stores a scant two years into her magical education.

The jaded wizard had gone through great lengths to separate himself from his past life, even cooling the sensation that tried to brand him as a hero—thanks to Potter's testimony at his trial—by hexing the pants off any journalist that dare sully his property. He'd built his thriving, order-in Apothecary business in such a way that required very little customer-owner interaction and had lived a primarily solitary existence.

He let out a string of profanities that had Hermione's cheeks pink with scandal as he stormed across the space and into his office. Only the open door gave her any indication of invitation but she eagerly accepted the chance and scrambled in after him.

He was already seated and took great offence to her roaming eyes as they took liberties in his space.

"Nice office. Decided to lose the pickled creatures, I see," the woman commented lightly, as if she were nothing more than an old friend.

"I don't take kindly to threats, Granger."

She gazed at him tiredly and lowered herself into a chair on the opposite side of the grand desk. Even through his red haze of distain an errant thought still acknowledged her nearly fluorescent beauty as a foreign fixture in the masculine space.

"And I don't take kindly to people who make them, Sir," she clipped, "But I'm afraid I have found myself in a position where I am far passed my usual code of conduct."

He flipped his hand in as sweeping 'indulge me' motion. "_Still_ with the Gryffindor dramatics. Did your dear husband leave you with a particularly pesky venereal disease? Because I can assure you there are more discreet ways to seek treatment…"

Instead of engaging him as he expected, she dropped her gaze into her lap, an altogether defeated posture, "Please, Sir…"

"You have five minutes, wench. Stop pouting and begin talking or I don't care how much media attention it gets me, I'll end you myself."

The Gryffindor Princess jumped immediately into action, pulling her wand and conjuring a fat stack of medical files and journals. Severus had to fight to keep from rolling his eyes and wondered if the girl could restrict an explanation to five minutes if her life depended on it.

"Acute Infant Serpentine Pneumonia," she searched his face closely, "Are you familiar with the condition, Professor?"

He had to fight harder than was really reasonable to keep a neutral expression. Severus suddenly knew _exactly_ what had the little witch acting so erratically. He should have realized; the odd behavior and out of character threats were so clearly maternal. A desperate mother hen.

That body though… that didn't look like it belonged to a female who had recently pushed out a Weasley pup.

He was going to kill Draco. _Kill_.

The raven-haired wizard managed to keep his revelation off his face and sneered indignantly, "Of course I am, it's been a rather unavoidable topic. A fatal condition derived from a reptilian virus that affects mainly the newborns of pureblood parents. Discovered three years after the end of the war, it was thought to be developed and intentionally released by Muggle-born extremist to punish Death Eater families that they believe didn't receive harsh enough punishment for their war crimes. Marked initially by rash-like spots and eventual respiratory failure," he recited with disinterest, "_Tragic_."

The woman's lovely gaze turned ice cold at his unemotional response.

"Ron's blood was enough to make us susceptible. My son's developed the first stages."

Severus enjoyed being right. He also knew he no intentions of giving Granger what she'd come for. He sat back in his chair as a dismissal. "I'm very sorry. I recommend you take it to Saint Mungo's immediately."

The woman's shriek was jarring, even though he was expecting the reaction.

She tossed the thickest file across the desk, sending the contents spilling out before him. "I already took him to Saint Mungo's! I took my baby to every healer I could find and all they gave him was pity," the vexed mother whimpered, "They sent us home with hospice forms on how to report it when he finally…when he's finally…"

And with that, she dissolved into a mess of hard sobs in the middle of Snape's beloved office, turning from brave and determined to afraid and broken in ten seconds flat.

"For God's sake, he's not even four months old. I can't just wait for him to die!"

Severus watched on with neither ridicule nor a great deal of concern. Unlike most men, female tears did not make him the least bit uncomfortable. He had been the Dark Lord's double-crossing right hand for a great deal of his life. There was no putting a number on the amount of mothers he had seen cry and beg for the life of their child—most, if not all, of whom went unanswered. At least _this_ was natural. Children get sick and die.

The brunette failed to control her breathing but continued on amongst upset hick-ups and moisture filled eyes, "Everyone told me that the disease was untreatable with a one hundred percent fatality rate, but at least one of those sick babies is running around completely healthy, aren't they Professor?"

The potions master's lids dimmed wryly, "Surely, I don't know what you mean, Miss Granger. I am not a heal-"

"Don't you dare!" she snapped, "Don't you dare pretend that you didn't treat Scorpius Malfoy and leave my son to die. Not all the money in the world could have helped your godson. The only thing that Draco has that no one else does is _you_."

The two acidic individuals stared of with sharp eyes. Severus wanted to throw the witch out on her arse for thinking she could waltz in and make demands of him, as if she wasn't the one who owed him countless life debts. She wouldn't be easily disposed of though, he was sure. The Gryffindor Goddess would haunt his every waking moment until her son took his last tiny breath.

He conjured himself a small glass and reached for the firewhiskey inside his top desk drawer, a well used stock. "I'd offer you a drink but you seem to be quiet hysterical enough without the loosened tongue of inebriation," he snarked after a rich gulp.

The wizard took his time deciding his next move before he said anything at all.

"Do you know that the Malfoy's owned a sizable villa in the south of France?"

She just glared back at him, her pretty features venomous.

"I only mention it because that's what they had to sell in order to pay for the potion I provided Draco to save his heir."

Granger looked equal parts frightened and murderous. "You charged your own godson a fortune to save his child?" she spat, disgusted.

"I didn't ask _any_ payment for my services, and they were extensive, mind you, as the potion required a great deal of time to develop and had to be made fresh for six weekly applications," he watched her shrink back guiltily, "The money was to cover the cost of the practically unattainable component needed for its base.

"There is but one reptile in the world that enjoys immunity to the original stain of virus. It originates from only one location in the rainforest of Latin America and because the natives of the region have long ago caught on to its medicinal properties, it had been hunted to extinction."

He caught a glimpse of the girl Granger once was as she leaned in subconscious to soak in his every word, as if she was receiving a free lecture.

"They no longer exist in the wild," he continued, "And because the brew required the actual flesh of the animal, we had to talk it off a very reluctant collector who couldn't _dream_ of parting the his beloved show case for less than three hundred thousand Euros, a fee he was free to name, as he had precious little competition. Even the Malfoy's had trouble coming up with that much raw capital in such a short time."

The wizard still stung from giving the greedy Muggle so much for the creature. He would have Obliviatedthe fool and been done with it if the Ministry hadn't found a way to monitor magical acts against Muggles.

Granger looked as if she were going to be sick on the floor of his office. "So there's no other snake? _That's it_?" her tears began to well again.

Severus waved his wand lazily and a small file removed itself from the cabinet beside them to settle on the desk. He flipped through until he found the appropriate document.

Now that he thought on it, curing the golden couple's child might run a profit for him if he played his cards right. He wasn't one to turn away good money, no matter the source.

"There was another collector that had recently acquired a full mated pair but was, for obvious reasons, unwilling to give up either one. It's possible that he could have hatched young by now… Scorpius was one of the first cases. However, the price will be just as high, if not more, as he had just paid through the ear for the female and knows their worth."

At this news, she dropped her face in her palms and was silent for longer than he thought appropriate in his company. He guessed her reflection was one of relief but her blotchy, tear soaked cheeks suggested other wise.

"I don't have that kind of money."

He lifted one thick brow, perplexed, "How does the most highly endorsed celebrity couple in Britain not have the pocket change to pay for such a thing."

"You know why," she snapped absently, pulling the roots of her hair as if she were trying to yank it out.

"Believe it or not, _wench_, not everyone rushes to the news stands to hear the latest sordid details of your wrenched lives. In fact, some actively avoid it."

Granger studied him intently and looked surprised when she saw no evidence of insincerity or humor at her expense. She sighed, "My former brother-in-law's wife had a visit from her veela cousin last summer. It seemed the golden haired trollop liked the idea of a rich war hero and Ron put up precious little resistance," she sniffed delicately, "When she disappeared suddenly back to France she took my husband and the contents of our joint account with her."

Her tone made it clear that she missed her gallons more than she missed her useless ex-lover. "At the time, I had just found out I was pregnant, though Ron and I had been trying-"

Severus snorted, naturally the brainless freckled-arse would luck out and get his paws on the greatest witch of their age and still find it appropriate to waste her with breeding.

"-and when I rented one of the Ministry's tracking owls to delivery the divorce papers, I asked only for full custody of our child. I have very little left."

Though he'd never admit it, her former professor mused that it would most definitely take a full veela to lure any sane man away from a bed warmer as physically appealing as the one Weasley left behind. And even then, it was certainly more about magical allure than raw beauty. His lips twitched into the rare semblance of amusement at the image of the idiot's face when he pissed the creature off and it turned into a sharp taloned Harpy.

She misinterpreted his almost-smile. "Yes, _I know,"_ her voice lowered into a drone that was obviously meant to mimic him, "I'm a frigid, tight-legged, shrew that can't hold onto her husband…"

It was a dry joke to poke fun at herself before he had the opportunity but the message was a touch too strong to not have come from the recesses of her self esteem.

"Nonsense, Weasley was born an idiot and he'll die one," he covered the half-compliment with another attempt to dismiss, "However, if that is the case, there is nothing I can do for you. I specifically told young Malfoy to keep this to himself for precisely this reason. It's not fair to get one's hopes up when the only cure is so far from attainable."

"As if you've ever in your life lost a wink of sleep over letting someone down."

He fixed her with a glower that could have terrified the paint off the wall. "I've spent _decades_ losing sleep and sanity because I let someone down. I refuse to answer to spoiled, insolent bits like you when I don't bend over backward to accommodate them," the wizard snarled, "Now get out!"

The woman nearly threw herself on his desk, leaning on the hard wooden surface desperately, "No, _please_. I'm sorry… I didn't mean…I'm not in my right mind!" she finally stuttered.

"_That_ Granger, is abundantly clear. But luckily there is nothing you could possibly say today that could worsen my pre-existing opinion of you."

He pointed to the door forcefully, "_Leave_."

Her stunning eyes looked near feral and he could practically see the wheels in her head grasping for traction. Severus wrapped his fingers around his ebony wand in preparation for her last stand.

Instead, she waved her pale hand and conjured a tiny square of paper. A picture, he realized, as she pushed it unsteadily in front of him. It was a frighteningly feminine gesture from the girl he had once watched mow down Death Eaters like they made up an inanimate target practice. He didn't take it from her, but cast his dark eyes upon it to pacify.

Objectively, and though he had very little to compare it to, it was an attractive example of a standard human newborn, with pillowy cheeks, bright blue eyes, and no notable gender distinction aside from its blue pajamas.

"He's the only thing in this world I'd still fight for," Granger spoke softly. "_Please_, Severus. I-I'll get the money," she said without her famous confidence, "I just need time… but he doesn't have any… If you'd start on the potion-"

"Miss Granger," he articulated slowly, "You're asking me to put forth a quarter million galleons of my own coin with no guarantee of repayment or benefit to myself. You are, in Muggle terms, barking up the wrong tree."

The witch sat back against the leather chair for a number of tense minutes, and again threw him for a loop when she rose gracefully to her feet.

"I'm going to get the money," she said, more herself than him.

She primed beautifully, using her wand to charm the puffiness out from under her eyes and smooth her waist length hair in order to leave in presentable condition.

He watched her every move, not willing to think her beyond an _Imperio. _

Hermione wasn't a tall woman, would probably come to the line of scars around his neck if stood against him. She was so petite, though, that it gave the allusion of length when partnered with a rather dangerous looking pair of heels.

She wore a modestly cut but figure hugging Muggle dress, garb that had gained popularity in the wizarding world since the down fall of the Dark Lord and rampant integration campaigns.

Granger bent over his desk to collect her son's medical forms and gave the older wizard and completely unintentional flash of the tops of her creamy, full breasts. They were huge on her frame, heavy with mother's milk no doubt.

Severus' not-easily-impressed cock stirred enthusiastically inside his robes.

He wanted to fuck her.

_How inconvenient_.

For a moment he resigned himself to another marginally satisfying visit to the local brothel but as his keen eyes took in Granger's fight to force back disappointed tears, he wondered if he could work out a different mutually rewarding transaction.

He almost loathed to flatter her with the suggestion.

The witch's tempting little arse was already swaying towards the door when he decided fucking it would be worth the ridiculous price. He had just since the end of the war achieved financial success enough to be able to make such an offer.

"Granger," he drawled, no urgency.

She turned on him, salvaged pride in the set of her narrow shoulders, "No need for goodbyes, professor. I'm coming back."

He sneered. As though he'd ever stop her exit to administer well wishes.

"I was wondering, rather, if you'd consent to drop the rose colored notion of scavenging the obscene amount of money before your pup's condition worsens in favor of another form of payment."

The lovely female visibly held back sudden hope, it looked as if her knees where trying to buckle on her. "Do you mean a way to start the treatment before I come up with the money?"

"No."

Her face fell.

"I mean _service_ in lieu of payment."

She was back in the chair, her hands waving erratically in time with her chatter, before he could blink, "Of course! Anything, sir! I'aven't any work experience but I've earned my degree in both Charms and Transfiguration… And not to gloat but I'm an eloquent brewer-"

The girl was so much more beautiful with her mouth shut.

"This is an _indecent_ proposal, Granger."

Brightest witch of their age aside, it took her a full minute to understand his insinuation. Her eyes and mouth formed the same perfect 'O's', and he watched with a mild expression as a blush traveled up the smooth skin of her throat.

"Oh," she whispered.

He had the sense that he was facing the calm before the storm. "If you are not interested, you are more than free to collect the money yourself and bring it to me. I will prepare the treatment once you've covered the costs regardless. But if you are amenable, I'll pay for the material myself and will contact the reptile vender first thing tomorrow."

"You mean to say…" the dignified war vixen stated slowly, offense brewing behind golden eyes, "That I can buy my son's _life_ by sleeping with you?"

Snape didn't back down. It wasn't as if she could ruin his reputation. No one liked him anyway. "_No_. You'd be buying the medication to cure your son of his illness. It's hardly uncouth. I'm sure the whores I patronize in Knockturn Alley use their wages to purchase things for their children all the time."

"I am _not_ a _whore_!" she hissed.

Cutting the over-valued witch down to measure was almost worth having to spend his day dealing with her. "If it makes you feel any better, I believe the exchange would make your quim the most expensive in all of Europe."

The Gryffindor gasped like she'd been struck.

"I cant believe you'd proposition a student…"

"You haven't been a student of mine for years, Granger," he corrected, "No matter how many times you call me 'Professor'."

She huffed childishly, her arms crossed in front of her chest in a way that only accentuated the tits his thin lips yearned to wrap around.

"Are you breastfeeding?"

"_Excuse me_?"

"Are you providing your child with nourishment though your lactating mammary glands?"

She turned an unhealthy shade of red. "I know what it means, you snake! I just don't see how that's any of your business."

Half of it had to do with his desire to suckle those gorgeous mounds himself—professional harlots weren't exactly the kind of things one wants to put their mouth on—but he also had more appropriate motives.

"Draco's trophy bride refused such commoner practices, we had to hire the child a wet nurse. The potion is too abrasive to be given directly to a sick new born and needs to be administered through its mother's milk. If you've allowed yourself to run dry, I'll need to give you an elixir that induces lactation."

"_Oh_…" she settled some, embarrassed, "No. Thank you, but that won't be necessary. modern Muggles stress the importance of bonding with your child and giving optimal nutrition. 'Breast is best' and all that…" she recited offhandedly, "Now how would this arrangement work then?"

"Arrangement?"

"The sex. What do you want from me, _exactly_."

The astonishment that hit him meant that he had never actually thought there was a chance she'd agree. Hermione Granger, deserving or not, was every wizard's deepest desire, and knowing her stupid sense of ethics and propriety, he was sure she'd been with only one man in her entire twenty-some years of life. While Snape didn't covet her for keeps, he sure as hell wouldn't mind bedding the fresh young chit.

Severus quickly considered what he expected for his galleons and hard work. "I want full access to your body throughout the entire process, witch. From now until the last dose is given to your son."

She squirmed, "Full access?"

"The potion will be hard on you, as you're to be the one consuming it directly. I propose you and the child stay in a spare room of my home, temporally for the six weeks of treatment. There, my house elf will be able to look over the boy on the days you are fatigued from the potion and I will be able to get my money's worth," his dark eyes glittered.

He'd acquired a Ministry seized manor for a great price after its original owner was tossed in Azkaban. It was far too grand for his tastes but after the stigma of owning Death Eater property died down, he'd be able to turn it for thrice what he paid. For the time being, it meant he could house Granger and her noisy babe on the opposite wing and never risk seeing them unless he wanted her.

"Is that something you'd consent to or would you prefer to come up with monetary payment?"

Hermione looked up at him like he'd asked the world's most ridiculous question. "You're a complete bastard for even offering it, but of course I'm going to do it. I know that being born without a heart affects your ability to understand such things," she accused testily, "but I'd do any thing for my child. You could have asked me for a pound of flesh and I would have given it willingly. If it means getting him help faster… its yours."

"I'll keep that in mind for next time," he murmured dryly.

The red and gold lioness turn sheepish, "I'm not… _good_ at it, sir. I'd been with Ronald since we were teens and, well, everyone who's picked up a news paper knows how that ended.

"I'll try my best…" she held her chin up with genuine determination, "to please you. But you have to promise me that my son wont suffer if you find me… _lacking_."

Severus wondered if there was a woman on earth intelligent enough to be immune to the damage inflicted by unworthy men. Obviously not, since he was hesitant to believe anyone quicker than Granger. How a beautiful female could have her self-confidence systematically crushed by a boy that looks and acts so much like a wild ape was remarkable.

The silly girl would get no emotional healing from him, however. She could lay stark still underneath him and smile pretty for all he cared.

"There's no chance of that, I assure you," he told her firmly. His eyes wondered her body and he sat back expectantly, "However, I would like a sample of what is to come right now, if you'd please."

She went as ridged as a doe caught in rapidly approaching headlights, her pink lips pursing and closing several times before she found her words. "I-Right now? _Here_?" she squeaked comically.

He waved to invite action. "Quite right."

"I've never made love outside of the bedroom," she said softly.

He smirked, just a twitch, "And I don't plan on changing that, as I have no inclination towards love making—but even if we're using the loosest form of the term, that isn't what I'm asking for presently."

Severus settled his gaze on her sweet mouth.

There was a sudden serge of raw magic in the small room, after which Hermione was left wringing her hands innocently.

He tsked his disapproval, "You just tried to disapperate."

"Its an old defense mechanism! I do it when I'm nervous… Completely involuntary," she claimed, but still looked a bit put out, "Only _you_ would have wards that wont let people out of your office."

He sighed after several moments passed and it became apparent she didn't plan on budging. The war heroine needed courage… or at the very least, motivation.

"Miss Granger, if you find yourself up unable to perform outright then there are easier and cheaper options for me," he warned gently, without the heat of an actual threat.

Even the intolerant ex-Death Eater realized a women of her caliber was worth a little more patience and gentleness than he would ever consider wasting on hired talent.

She didn't make him wait long however, when reminded of the unyielding nature of her business partner and how quickly her opportunity could be lost, the small beauty stood to her full, unimpressive height and advanced on him bravely.

Though Severus enjoyed control during sex, the same as in every facet of his life, he merely pushed his chair away from the desk and settled himself against the leather back. Part of him was just curious as to what she'd come up with if not given explicit instruction and direction, a scenario that would have led to conniptions when she was a child. The _other_ part, the part he wouldn't admit to, was simply too busy watching her lithe little form sway towards him with admirable determination.

His long-neglected member was already as hard as stone by the time she plopped her firm bottom into his lap.

If Snape hadn't been so surprised by the action, he would have stopped it, but when Hermione Granger wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly on the lips, he was left entirely out of his element. The dark wizard couldn't even remember the last time he'd been embraced and kissed, but was sure it had _never_ happened with the intensity and tenderness that the girl on his lap was forcing on him now.

Severus groaned—guttural and unintentional as her needy fingers threaded through his hair, her breasts burning against his shirt.

This was the type of attention one received when they messed with a witch that had been married to her childhood sweetheart her entire adult life, a woman that knew nothing of sexual satisfaction without the smolder of love and affection for her partner.

Mouth full of passionate female, he knew in that first moment that such treatment would be dangerously easy to get used to…

She pulled back shyly, pink and panting, before burrowing her nose into the crook of his neck. Her breaths fanned softly across the scars that covered his throat and he felt a twinge of foreign emotion when she pressed a kiss on the marred flesh instead of recoiling like all the others.

"Is this alight?" Granger asked meekly, her finger nails scraping gently at his scalp.

_No_. It wasn't.

It was intimate and unnerving and made his tool throb harder than any proper sucking he'd received in his entire life.

But naturally, he wasn't going to cop to any of that. "Whatever makes you comfortable, Miss Granger," he managed gruffly.

He moved his hands—which he was somewhat surprised to find on her hips—up to her tiny waist and then down her back until they were each grasping one cheek of plump arse.

"_Oh_ _my_," she moaned delicately.

Severus jumped on the reaction, kneading her flesh until she was undeniably grinding her heat over the solid ridge his cock provided. "I thought you were appalled by my proposition, wench," he mocked her lightly, despite his own consuming want. His large nostrils flared, "I can smell you through your clothes. You're positively ripe for a shagging…"

He _felt_ rather than saw the heat of her blush against his cheek.

"I- Well, its been a while for me," she confessed. "When I was pregnant, it was miserable, not having a partner around, but its been easier since my hormones settled some." Her lips ghosted over the shell of his ear and he worked hard to suppress a shiver. "I guess I didn't realize how much I missed this…"

Clearly her honest, kittenish vulnerability when sexually engaged wasn't going to make cutting the intimacy by goading her a possibility.

"Missed what?" he wondered, trying to quell his panic.

She leaned back, a question in her honey eyes, "Being wanted?"

Severus allowed the assumption.

He flexed his groin into her pointedly, "Well, you're certainly that, witch."

The vixen gasped as she dropped her gaze, "You mean…" she swallowed hard, "that's all- there's nothing in your front pocket?"

He puffed proudly, "No time like the present to find out."

The wizard reluctantly released his hold and placed gentle but suggestive pressure on her shoulders to coax her off his lap and onto the floor in front of him.

She kneeled obediently with only a hint of trepidation. Her pretty little face—so eager to please and staring up at him—was nearly his undoing. "I've only done this a few times," she warned, "and its been a while."

Severus wondered if she was the frigid type who refused to do something so unsavory more often than was absolutely necessary to land a husband or if Weasley was just a useless troll that didn't want anything to stand in the way of rutting.

After that clearly attention-starved kiss, he guessed than later.

He threaded his fingers through her smooth curls, almost possessively, and lied to put her at ease before he could realize he was doing it, "Some is better than others, but I've yet to receive bad head."

She showed her appreciation by smiling, opening the front of his robes and the fly of his trousers. His cock voiced _its_ appreciation by lurching out in greeting, showing far more enthusiasm than its owner would ever would.

"Oh you've _got_ to be kidding me," Granger hissed at it.

Severus actually smiled, a pleasant surge of vanity the less-than attractive man rarely got to experience. He was _well_ endowed. "Not familiar with such a large tool, witch?"

"Of course I am," she snipped with a blush, "My aunt had _horses_ when I was growing up…"

His snicker turned into a deep groan as she wrapped her warm hand tentatively around his base and gave him a little lick up his shaft. It was an armature move to the extreme but looking down at such a beautiful creature servicing him more than made up for her lack of finesse.

She kept her eyes trained up at him with every gentle lapping, searching out his reactions in order to hone in on his likes. Her gaze was almost reverent, a far cry from the whores that diverted their attention and tried to pretend they hadn't gotten stuck with a cold ex-Death Eater.

"_Good girl_," he choked out his praise, his grip on her hair careful but tightening with the pulse in his sack.

Hermione positively lit up under his approval, doubling her efforts. He thought fleetingly that he would have thrown her a compliment more often when she was a student had he known how gorgeous she was when trebling with excitement.

He hissed as her fingers kneaded his balls daintily. "A quick study as always, Miss Granger," he crooned, eyes trailing that prefect pink tongue, "But show me you know how to use that sweet mouth to do more than annoy. Suck me, _princess_."

Severus was disappointed that term came out sounding more like an endearment than the mild ribbing he'd been shooting for. It was hard to remember to dislike a witch when she was looking up at him like that.

"I'll try," she panted out as she sat up higher off her haunches and slipped her burning mouth over the top of him.

"_Merlin_," he threw his head back as she attempted to stuff herself with his member.

Heavily muscled thighs ached with the impulse to thrust, to fuck that fantastic slim throat—and had she been anyone else, or had she stopped looking at him with so much trust, he would have been balls deep in her.

"_Easy,_ witch… you don't have to hurt yourself to make it good. You can worry about getting all of me inside when I get to fuck you."

She whimpered and he was shocked at the eagerness of the sound.

His hand guided her back to a much more reasonable depth and she hummed around him gratefully. Severus decided then and there that she was the best thing that ever happened to his cock, regardless that she was only able to take half of it in.

She watched him the entire time, her huge eyes soaking up his pleasure in a way that would have succeeded in making the wizard feel self-conscious had he been able to process anything but the sensations she was inducing.

"Fuck," he yelped as the little witch established a rhythm sure to kill his dubious endurance, "Your going to earn every Knut of that money aren't you, little wench? _Worth every Knut_…"

The smell of her own musky scent of arousal wafting up to him was what truly did him in. It wasn't a delicacy the unattractive man was able to experience often and like all males, it left him trembling with the a rush of testosterone and an unbearable urgency to spill his seed.

"I'm going to come," he just barely had the decency to hiss out in warning, "I want to watch you swallow me down, princess. Can you do that?"

Severus didn't give her much time to think over his request before his vision of her was blurred by the blinding white pleasure of his release. He felt her throat convulse around the tip of him multiple time as she swallowed back what he was sure was the biggest load he'd ever ejaculated.

He had very little lucidity to his thoughts in the moments after his orgasm. He may have proposed to the blessed witch.

Snape tucked his sensitive member into his trousers as the pink-cheeked woman perched her small bum on the corner of the desk directly in front of him. He couldn't believe that the pretty female had the audacity to look uncertain after such a performance.

"Was that a good start?" she asked timidly.

The dark wizard would have strangled her for making him lose his constant hold on control but he wasn't sure he had any bones left in his body with which to lift him arms.

"I'll see you and your son at noon in two days time, Granger. Don't be late."

**This is my first time trying to write SS/HG, though I'm a huge fan of it. Let me know what you think if you have the time! Thanks tons for reading either way.**

**12.31.2011- Someone more of less beta'ed this chapter via not-logged in review signed SevereWrath. lol I can't thank them because I don't know if it's their actual account, but I totally appreciate it and I went though and made those changes. **


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and core personality traits are the property of J.K. I own nothing, nor do I plan on profiting from using her work. No copyright infringement is intended.

Wow! I can't believe I got such a great response on the first section of this story! First chapters are always hard sells and this is such an off pairing I was thinking one or two kind souls would read it but we have over 40 people on alerts and I'm glad you guys have some faith in me!

Huge thanks to everyone that has given this little tale a shot. I think its going to be a fun ride [and I'm not just talking about the Hermione/Severus action! ;)]

Again, this **isn't beta'ed** so have a little mercy in that department. I can read it over and over as many times as I'd like but I'm still bound to miss some things. It's not that I don't know they're mistakes, the brain just gets lazy after several thousand words. Hope you enjoy regardless!

If anyone would being interested in beta'ing, shoot me a PM? It's only going to be another 2 or 3 long chapters so it's not a job you'll be stuck doing forever. :)

Alternative Payment Plan; Part Two

After his sample of Granger's impressive determination to uphold her end of their bargain, Severus couldn't say he was too displeased with the situation he'd been thrust into.

The money he'd agreed to invest was substantial but well within his means to provide. Not only was his business extremely successful, the talented wizard had rented out the rights to several of his personally created brews in which he hadn't the inclination to mass distribute himself, and the sums added to his volt each month were quite considerable. Though he was loose with his money by no definition, he knew objectively that he was an older man with no existing heir and wasn't opposed to dropping some coin on a luxury, just this once.

And _Merlin_ was the little witch a luxury.

The accomplished intellectual and two-time war survivor prided himself on his control over the carnal desires that weakened other men. He refused to subject himself to the frivolous nature of the fairer sex simply to have a regular sexual partner. Men like Lucius Malfoy—before he was sentenced to rot in Azkaban—whom expended a tremendous amount of time and effort in keeping his wife and mistresses happy so he had no shortage of pretty things to stick his tool into.

Severus could go to a brothel, pay a small fee, and get to leave the whore where she belonged after he was done with her.

Of course, the females were far from pleasing to look at and everything between walking in the door and spilling himself was a means to an end. Snape had but one rule when it came to the appointment of his paid companions; no glamours. He knew the dogs those Madams tried to pass off as beauty queens and wanted to know for certain that what he was shagging was not The Missing Link. Such a rule meant he was matched with the most naturally attractive girl in the place but frankly, that still left him with undeniably homely individuals.

The combination of these factors made for an over all unimpressive experience and Severus hardly bothered with it any longer.

But clearly, it wasn't _sex_ he had no interest in—it was _bad sex_. Proven by the fact that he'd been as ready to go as a hippogriff in musth since Granger's sweet little body had sashayed out off his office the pervious day.

His keen mind—a mind that had made some of the most prolific strides his field had seen in decades—could suddenly conger no greater thought than the most inventive ways and locations in which to fuck the stunning female during his time with her.

Snape was sorely disappointed with himself.

_Yes_, he was pleased with the opportunity that had fallen, _literally_, in to his lap. However, after early morning negotiations, the species of serpent had ended up costing him ten percent more than it had the previous time he'd been in the market for one and since taking his annoyance out on Granger seemed counter productive, he decided on the next best outlet.

It was a scruffy, nervous specimen of house elf that opened the grand front door at Malfoy Manor. The ugly creature just about swallowed his tongue when its gigantic eyes took in the dark wizard awaiting entrance.

Severus didn't bother stating his business, just strode briskly into the familiar hall. By the look of the elfin servant, his godson had already been anticipating his visit.

"Mister Snap! Mister Snap!" the house elf went scrambling behind him, stumbling every few feet on the over sized pillowcase it had wrapped around itself. "Master is _not_ in! Master is not _not_ _not_ in the south wing library! You must leave at once, Mister Snap!"

The short-fused wizard fought the urge to drop kick the daft animal and instead directed himself to the library, where he now knew he'd be able to find Malfoy.

Severus was dragging the desperate elf on his left leg by the time he arrived at his destination.

The aristocratic blond was lounging across a leather couch, a rich firewisky in one hand and a forgotten book in the other, already alerted to his company by the approaching racket.

Snape stood in the door, red with irritation and shaking his leg in an attempt to dislodge. "Do you mind," he snapped at his grinning godson, "calling off your pet before I hex it within an inch of its life?"

Draco looked utterly unapologetic, not bothering to hide his handsome smile as he waved the elf off easily, "That'll be about enough, Yip. It was a valiant effort, my dear boy, but I warned you the ol' snake would be harder to turn away than that."

The tiny servant, _Yip_, released the limb he'd been cutting off circulation to, leaving Severus to wince at the sudden flow of blood.

"I's is sorry, Master! I's tolds him you was _most definitely_ not in heres but the Snap wouldn't listens, Sir!"

Malfoy's grin was in direct contrast to Snape's steely sneer. "Quite alright, mate. Why don't you go check on my son before my godfather here has a heart attack. He's getting on in years, I'm afraid..."

The awful green beast shot Severus a glare and bowed deeply in its master's direction before vanishing with a jarring crack.

The blond released a good-natured laugh and retained his causal indifference, so much like his father, but managed to wave the other man into the room and onto the matching fine leather chair cross from him. "Come in, if you must," he smirked, pointing to a set of crystal glasses and the bottle of dark liquor on the service table, "I can't say I wasn't dreading this encounter. Are you terribly cross with me?" he snickered.

Severus rolled his black eyes at the boy's inability to take a matter seriously if his spoiled pureblood neck depended on it. He did help himself to a generous measure of the expensive drink, though. It was the least Malfoy could offer him, the damned sod. "Only the guilty anticipate their reckoning, Draco."

"As charged," the younger man bowed humbly from his seat, "But you really can't blame me, Sev. You've obviously seen our stunning little muggleborn lately… How could you expect me to turn her away? All big brown eyes with her little wand aimed at my chest. You know I'm a sucker for a healthy streak of violence in a beautiful woman."

Draco's grey eyes glazed over with lust as he presumably recalled him encounter with his former rival. Snape wasn't much surprised that the Slytherin had caved to the girl's demands. The pureblood Prince had always held a secret flame for Gryffindor's finest and he, a man of undeniably greater impulse control, hadn't exactly been able to turn the girl away either, after all.

"She was just about the worst person in the world you could have exposed us to," the dark wizard drawled. "Came uninvited into my store yesterday, threatening my staff and making demands." Unfortunately there was no heat to his words, the only image he could manage to ring up being the sight of her staring up at him from between his thighs.

His godson grinned, "She was the only one sharp enough to figure it out, clearly."

After he had successfully treated the Malfoy heir, they had altered the tot's medical files to suggest the sickly child had been misdiagnosed. The disease was so deadly that not many had questioned the theory but there were sure to be some suspicious, loud mouthed healers around to tip Granger off should she ask the right questions.

"I tried to tell her that my _superior_ genes had built up an immunity…" Draco continued, "And generously promised I'd be more than happy to endow her with hardier seed but she scarcely appreciated the offer," he shrugged as he gulped down a mouthful of amber spirit, "Bloody ungrateful Gryffindors."

Severus guessed that such an offer had probably resulted in Hermione threatening his godson's ability to _ever_ reproduce again. She could be quiet the force of nature, that one. He made a show of glancing around the room, "And where is the lovely, Mrs. Malfoy today? Hardly catering to her husband's need like a good pureblood bride."

Draco's face soured immediately at the mention of his wife. It was well known that their arranged marriage wasn't a love match. The horrid woman wasn't even all that easy on the eye, but her blood was the finest the family's money could buy at the war's end. Though Severus would argue that the child she had contractually produced was an ugly little thing, and willowy enough to blow away in a strong wind. Hardly worth what they paid to import her from Sweden.

"Out on the grounds ridding Maximus, no doubt," he answered with no small about of disinterest.

Severus lifted a brow, "I hadn't know she was an equestrian."

"She's not. Scared to death of the damned animals. Max is the stable boy," the blond snorted, unconcerned. "Having my own mistress around wouldn't be remiss. Granger's such a stubborn little darling. Had I known Weasley would fuck up so royally with that one, I would have bided my time and waited to make my own proposal. Apparently she takes offense to the notion of being a kept woman."

Snape's thin lips flattened into a tight line. It was no wonder why the beautiful female's self esteem was so deeply lacking, with prospects like that.

"I'd say such a brilliant witch would scoff at the idea of being a Malfoy wife and breeding stock but she seemed more than content to act as such for Weasley," he mused aloud, "Perhaps I had her pegged incorrectly. I assumed she found her own intelligence too great a national commodity to waste as a house mum."

He'd die before admitting he'd expected more from her, but, _well_… he did. The witch was startlingly bright, even as a child.

Draco finally straightened from his tranquil lean, his posture defensive on Granger's behalf. "We all wasted our years of innocence as child soldiers, running around Britain, trying to kill one another," he chucked, his attempted at blasé hampered by the residual pain time couldn't quite mask yet, "We've had our adventures, our attempts to change the world. All we want now is to find a little peace and normalcy. Look at Potter, the man's increased the population of idiots by three in the last five years... Which was a bit of a surprise, to be honest. I took him for a nancy-boy, myself."

Just what Severus wanted to hear… that the Potter line was continuing on with gusto. As if the one wasn't more than enough. "I'd imagine that would be expected when one chooses the daughter of Molly Weasley as a mate," he reasoned.

Both men winced at the memory of the abrasive odd hag.

They lapsed into several moments of silence before the boy finally asked the question of the day. "I'm actually surprised to see you all in one piece," his grey eyes roved over Severus' person, as though searching for signs of injury, "How in the world did you manage to escaped the girl and live to tell the tale?"

The potion's master knew that never in a million years would anyone guess that he had agreed to help the long running bane of his existence. And even though his motives were far from honorable, Draco would still likely not believe him. The few that knew Snape well would have thought him uninterested in a female's extended services.

The elder man felt suddenly smug at acquiring what not even Malfoy wealth could afford his spoiled godson.

"I haven't," he answered smoothly, the rare hint of a grin hidden behind the lip of his glass, "She's to meet me in my office with the babe tomorrow afternoon. I've just come from picking up an ingredient in France."

Not even the high-class pureblood propensity for constantly mild and polite reactions could keep Draco from sputtering out a mouthful of drink, his grey eyes wide and watering after several attempts to cough the liquid out of his lungs. "You're joking, of course… You're actually going to treat the Ronald Weasley's child?"

Snape gave one hard nod, "That I am… Though from what I've been told its seems that the child is a _Granger_ that was unfortunate enough to have the wizarding world's most unsavory sperm donor."

Draco sat on the very edge of his chair, as interested in gossip as any petty trophy wife. The undoubtedly priceless first edition he'd been reading lay wedged, unnoticed, under his thigh. "How is she paying you? I heard the cad ran off with everything but the fillings in her teeth."

A flash of the girl's bright smile after they had signed a binding agreement the previous day came to mind and Severus doubted very much that her immaculate pearly whites had ever had cause for gold fillings.

Knowing full well that the boy he had guided through adolescence would never betray his trust, nor would he have be able to say a word to anyone without giving away the nature of the cure that had been created, the potion's master felt no need to keep secrets.

"We've worked out… an alternative payment plan," he murmured slyly. Even a man of modest needs enjoyed the pride gained from a bit of good old fashion gloating.

Had it been anyone else Draco's crass mind would have jumped to the correct conclusion but the young dolt just stared blanking, waiting for clarification. When Severus failed to oblige, the handsome bloke prompted further, "So she's, what? Working for you?"

Snape shrugged lazily, "In a matter of speaking."

Pale pureblood cheeks began to darken with the hot-headed tint of envy as Malfoy finally understood his godfather's meaning but desperately sought a different reality. "Scrubbing cauldrons? Packaging potions? Publicly indorsing your business? Spit it out, for Merlin's sake," he snapped.

The dark wizard grinned, his fingers twisting loosely around his wand incase the boy lost all sense of reason, "I assure you, the nature of our agreement is _most_ _private_."

Delicate crystal shattered on impact with expensive carpet, the blessedly empty glass having slipped through Draco's stunned grasp. The boy looked a mixture of rage and awe. "You bloody lie!" he accused.

The older man shot him a rather dangerous look and he seemed to remember all at once to whom he was speaking. The youngest generation of Voldemort's coerced followers knew better than anyone that Snape was not a wizard to be insulted or crossed. "I suggest you watch your words, Mr. Malfoy," he warned, his tone low and smooth, "I am not one of your little pals nor is this the quidditch locker room. If I make a claim, I can care less whether I impress you, boy."

Draco's body shivered slightly as he was given a moment's nostalgic trip back to the cold potions room. He threw his hands up submissively, "Lucky bastard. _Granger_? You've got the luckiest tool in the wizarding world."

Severus and his cock fervently agreed. "Yes well, I'll admit the girl is exceptionally talented, even outside the realm of academics."

The wealthy socialite's head tossed back with a very ungentlemanly groan. "She's such a good mum. When my son was sick my wife was busy checking the pre-nup to make sure she wasn't responsible for birthing another in the event the first one died…Granger's lovely legs are harder to penetrate than the volts in Gringotts. I can't believe she'd barter her sex to _you_."

Snape snarled with a ferocity only a man whom had survived two decades of war could and Draco again stuttered to backtrack, "Not that you aren't a fine catch, old sport," he added quickly, rambling, "It just that… well, since her husband's been out of the picture and she made herself over she's had more suitors than-"

Severus cut him off, intrigued, "What do you mean by that last bit? 'Made herself over.'"

He receive a strange stare from his godson before the boy's eyes registered a measure of recognition. "Ah, I sometimes forget how little you pay attention to the goings on of the rich and famous," he chuckled.

Draco reached slowly for his wand on the table beside him, repairing the glass he had broken before bothering to quench the other man's curiosity. He had his father's flair for dangling gossip. "Granger's been a popular little bird since the end of the war, and obviously nothing short of pretty, but always in that endearing… _cute_ way. The great war heroine, attractive like one might fancy a professional quidditch witch," the younger man laughed.

"When Weasley took off with that _animal_ though… he did her a favor. Not that he's around to see it, but she must have wanted to stick it to him because no witch has ever looked so stunning," the man, whom prized beauty in women above all else, declared fondly. He smirked, "She had the most eligible bachelors in Britain begging for her affections while she was still eight months swollen with pregnancy. Even the old wizarding circles cant stop talking about her."

The 'older wizarding circles' being the new, politically correct name for pureblood society.

Severus sat back against the regal chair, contemplating the woman he now had a stake in. He had assumed that Granger's vanity had been acquired over years in the limelight but it had apparently been derived out of the rejection of her ridiculous choice in mates. Crazy little witch. Again he felt he had misjudged her character.

He looked down at his now empty drink and decided he'd had about as much of his charming godson's company as he could handle in one day. Not to mention that Narcissa was sure to be lurking around the manor somewhere and the bint was relentless in her attempts to capture him and his newly acquired wealth in her web. She was an annoyance to him when she was Lucius' wife and she was immeasurably worse when left to her own devices.

He rose to his feet gracefully, "Scintillating," he said dryly, straightening his robes to make his leave, "I best get back to my labs. I can have the base started before I examine the child tomorrow afternoon."

Draco gazed up hopefully, "That's it? Not even a weak itching hex? You're letting me off that easily…"

"Of course not. Since you decided to tell the witch I could cure her child, you'll be responsible for altering his medical files so I am not subjected to more distraught mothers I am unable to help."

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

If Hermione Granger was the shining example of a Gryffindor lioness on the battlefield; brave, efficient and unrelenting, she melted into an absolute lamb when holding her tiny, ill son in her arms.

Severus had been waiting for her—though he did his damned best to hide it—when she walked beautifully into his business just before her scheduled time; stunning in a modest sun dress and a simple wrap that looped once around her neck and held the docile baby snuggly against her chest.

Something about the sight of mother and child caused a completely involuntary and highly bothersome tightening in his throat.

And _then_, she meet his eyes and smiled brilliantly, and it felt as though he couldn't breath at all.

While she had been a vision the last time he had seen her, there was unmistakable veil of misery marring her perfect, delicate features. Today there was no such hindrance to her glow. Bright eyed and pink cheeked, the girl looked as though she had just been graced with the best night's sleep of her short life. Severus knew immediately how much stress her son's impending death had been putting on her small shoulders.

He cleared his throat gruffly, quickly forcing back the reactions that only this female seemed to be able to pull from him. "You're early," he noted with a striking air of disapproval.

Clearly he wasn't going to admit that he'd been 'working' in the front room for several hours, his dark eyes darting to the door far more often than was necessary.

Granger punished his dishonestly with the most enticing little blush. "I'm sorry, Professor," she grinned guiltily, setting a large, fashionable bag on the counter in front of him, "I was just very eager to be here. We can sit tight for a bit if I've caught you in the middle of something."

He watched as she dug through the purse and pulled out a miniaturized wicker bassinet. With a flick of her wand the heavily padded basket returned to its full size—portable but still a roomy resting place for a small infant.

"You've already forced me to clear my day to accommodate you. I don't see any point in putting off the task," he relented, though still far from welcoming.

The lovely witch looked fully unaffected by his famously dark demeanor, a fact that ruffled his feathers some.

"Oh good," she said cheerfully. The new mother very carefully put an arm under her child's body and supported his weight as she removed the wrap that had been holding the babe to her bosom like a mini hammock.

A remarkably handsome little baby was exposed to Snape's field of vision. Fair healthier in appearance than the potions master had been anticipating, a much smaller pair of Hermione's eyes gazed up at him as the tiny body was placed in the comfort of it's plush carrier. Curious about the stranger, the cherub-like creature gurgled up at Severus happily, stretching out his chubby arm to make a feeble attempt at a grab in the wizard's direction.

Snape took a hasty leap backward, as if the newborn's reach stood a chance at capturing him in those tiny fingers.

He scowled sternly when Granger burst into a fit of giggles, having watched the exchange. "Are you afraid of him? He's just a baby, Sir, he's not going to hurt you," she crooned, offering up her hand to the child in his stead.

"Don't be ridiculous. I merely make it a habit of keeping myself from being pawed by dirty little hands," he deflected.

Truthfully, the young of their species made the hardened man _very_ nervous. It was something of an anomaly, considering he had mastered the art of terrifying all children eleven years and older with theatrical flourish, but he had very little experience with the very small sort and found himself skirting around them with caution.

Rosebud lips mashed together tightly in an attempt to hold back her unappreciated mirth, a poor try at masking how ill convinced she was in his lie. "He's fairly clean, you know. I wash him often."

Severus ignored her as he pulled out the paper work on which to record the child's condition pre-treatment. He conjured a quill and eyed Granger's boy with an assessing stare.

"How old is he?"

Her hand perched on her curvy hip, "Wouldn't you like to know his name first?"

"If you feel the burning need to tell me…" he sighed.

She narrowed her eyes at him briefly, "Well this is Hugo Granger, and he'll be four months next Tuesday."

Snape may have felt the first genuine pang of pity he had experienced for anyone but himself in living memory. "_Christ_ Granger, I know the child's father royally pissed you off but you didn't have to take it out on the tyke. What a perfectly dreadful name."

As if the bright red stock of hair of the infant's head wouldn't have been enough to get him teased mercilessly throughout his school years.

Hermione's button nose turned up in offense. "People with glass-_ridiculous-names_ shouldn't throw stones, _Severus_," she quipped.

The jaded wizard couldn't stop the sudden flash of memory; the marauders cornering him in a vacant corridor… loud taunts of "Snivellus!" as they ripped the pages out of his forth or fifth-hand text books. He made quick work of changing the subject before the bitterness could creep back in. After all… his tormentors were all dead and he was in the best position he'd been in his whole life.

"He appears to be in good standing," he commented clinically as he looked over the pint-sized patient. "When did you first suspect he was ill?"

"It's only been a month—three weeks and a handful of days," she was quick to answer his questions, "I've taken him everywhere I could think of but they wont even try to treat a child with the condition any longer. They all told me to take him home and make sure he was… comfortable." The glint of her famous temper flashed across her flushed face at the mention of the healers whom had turned her son away.

"I'd say his chances at making a turn around are exceptionally high," he decided honestly. He was pleased that the boy wasn't a lost cause from the get-go. It wasn't as though he could return Hermione's services if his healing was unsuccessful. "Draco brought his heir to me when the child had only been ill for half as long and the babe was already in far worse condition," Severus examined the skin on tot's thick arms but didn't venture too close, "Your child has obvious signs of the rash—the first stage of the disease, but his breathing hasn't reached the point where it sounds labored and damage to the lungs is what takes longest to repair."

Granger smiled down into the basket adoringly, "Of course. He's my fighter. Such a strong little one," she cooed in an impossibly sweet tenor, obviously more for Hugo's benefit than the grown wizard's.

He ignored the proud mother's admittedly adorable crooning and pointed his wand at the child to start his way down the list of needed information. Despite his remarkable reflexes, he was taken aback when he found Hermione's rigid body between him and his wand's target in the measure of a blinking eye.

"W-What are you going to do to him?" she demanded nervously, eyeing the wooden instrument with palatable distrust.

Severus made sure to appear far more offended than he actually was, "Truly, Miss Granger? You suspect I'm going to hex the child after I've signed a contract that obligates me to do all I can to save its life?"

The stunning witch looked immediately chastised, her plump bottom lip captured between her prefect white teeth. His body reacted to her sudden proximity just as quickly and he wondered if he was going to have to implement a rule of a minimum allotment of personal space in order to get anything done with her around.

"I'm sorry, Sir," she apologized sheepishly; her sweet little body fidgeting in a manner that was likely to earn her his instantaneous forgiveness. "It's just frightening, you know? To see one's baby at the end of a wand… I-I _do_ trust you though," she assured him but made no attempt to move.

He sighed, a sound that conveyed less understanding and more annoyance in having to be subjected to her silly maternal protectiveness. "If it makes you feel any better, potions masters whom specialize in medical ointments and cures, such as myself, and healers have work very similar in nature. The primary difference being-"

"Bedside manor?" she quipped with a snicker.

He raised a brow at the witches gall, though not entirely sure why he should be surprised at that point, "They only know which treatments are in need of being administered," he corrected, "_I_ can _make_ them."

Hermione's face softened and her tender smile distracted him from noticing the small hand she gently brushed across his cheek. Unused to such casual endearment, he was struck at once with both the impulse to recoil and the urge to lean into her feather-light stroke. Instead of acting on either he merely stood stock-still until the gorgeous witch took a polite step away.

Severus instantly wanted her back against him.

"You're right, of course," she admitted, forcing him to scramble to remember what the two had even been talking about before she gifted him with the heat of her affectionate touch, "You're more than qualified and I know he's safe with you. I didn't mean to make things harder on you than I already am."

Snape's gaze jumped to the golden-eyed child that was staring right back up at him and refocused on the task at had. The child's mother was a fine prize indeed but he was a man of his word—_most of the time_—and he had to first earn his rights to her body.

"I'll just…" she glanced around the room at the vast expense of impressive potions stores and wondered off to examine a section which held horns and ivories from various magical beasts. Ever the inquisitive mind, "Look around and give you some space to do your work."

He successfully curved the habit of ordering her not to touch anything. If anyone was capable of figuring out which items to keep from dipping her fingers in to avoid a painful death, it was Granger.

Unwilling to handle the wriggling new born any more than absolutely necessary and free of her parental scrutiny, Severus did what in all likely-hood would have given the young mother an aneurysm. The baby boy squealed in innocent delight as he was levitated in mid-air to the highly accurate scales normally used for ingredients.

"1.2 stones," Snape told the child as if he were capable of comprehending such things, "You should be well under one at this age. Hitting the breast a bit hard, are we, Mr. Ganger?"

Severus couldn't say he blamed the child…

Mini Granger looked thankfully unperturbed.

Hermione's tinkling, disembodied laugher came from behind the first large row of shelving. "He was just under 5 kilograms when he was born," she groaned a little, the tone of her voice one of reluctant remembrance. "The healer advised me not to even attempt a natural birth. He came via magical Caesarean."

He internally acknowledged the positive implications that news had for his cock. Having pushed baby-zilla out of her quim four months prior wouldn't have boded well for its predicted tightness.

Severus hovered the child in front of him and took out a tape for accurate measurements. Focused on carefully reading the numbers, he didn't notice the tiny creature make another grab for him until it was too late. Minuscule fingers wrapped around the wrist of his rope with surprising strength, determined to reel in the man whom had been ignoring his efforts to play.

The larger of the two wizards released a panicked yelp before he could come to his senses. His reaction of course lead to the rapidly approaching click of Granger's high heels on the wooden floor and Severus had to quickly take the child in his arms, lest the protective mother catch him levitating her sick baby as though he were a intimate object.

The beautiful woman looked stunned to find the ex-death eater holding the babe securely to his chest and to his horror Snape felt his ears heat at being found in such a position.

Pleased as punch at finally achieving his goal, Mini Ganger promptly reached up and wrapped his fingers around Snape's famously prominent nose.

Ignoring Hermione's tense intake of breath; a sound one might make had they just watched their son pull the tail of a blood thirsty three-headed dog—he merely blinked down at the pushy infant, more mirth than annoyance, "Yes…I'm aware it's large. You are not the first to point this out, nor are you likely to be the last."

His rich, smooth voice with its deadly elegance—a voice that had injected fear into the spine of many a dunderhead—was apparently soothing to little ears because the boy babbled joyfully.

By the time Severus had lowered Hugo back in his temporary bed, he found Hermione beaming brightly at them. "He likes you," she exclaimed with something very near astonishment.

His expression soured, "Your surprise wounds me."

She blushed, "I'm not surprised he likes _you_, Sir. It's just… he's not the most sociable and very selective. He screams his fool head off every time Harry tries to pick him up."

"Intelligent child," he viewed the blue bundle with a wave of camaraderie.

A half hour later both mother and son had offered up all necessary information, thought Hermione had to be reminded of the dangers of being given too large a dose because of inaccurate weight estimation before she was coaxed onto the scale in front of him.

"Very well," Severus concluded, setting the paperwork aside. "I've started the potion's base but the serpent I was able to acquire is too young to yield enough meat to last for all the applications. I've dosed his water with a rapid aging elixir. We should be ready to start treatment in a week's time."

"I can't thank you enough, Professor," Granger clutched the now exhausted baby to her chest, tightening her hold in a semi-hug at the positive news.

His gaze heated, the last hour of close proximity to the perfect female having had reduced him to a randy teenager-like state. "I'm looking forward to you're best efforts regardless, witch."

Her cheeks flamed and her gaze dropped demurely but she didn't look at all angered by the reminder of his slight coercion as he was partially expecting. "I-Well, speaking of which… I didn't want to assume, and you didn't give a specific starting date," she gestured towards her large designer purse, "But I reduced and packed enough of our things for Hugo and I to stay at your home, as requested, immediately if that's what you had in mind…" she squirmed.

The thought of having her in his bed that very night was a suggestion he was entirely in favor of. Before the witch could again try to Apparate away in a spell of embarrassment, he cleared his throat and called out clearly, "Noodle!"

As Hermione opened her mouth to question the bizarre exclamation, a small elf appeared with a 'pop' that made the witch jump back like a frightful house cat.

The large eared creature dropped into a groveling bow the moment it figured out where it was. "Master!" it squeaked, its huge eyes wide with the typical alarming amount of adoration. "You needs Noodle's, Sir?"

He waved his hands in Hermione's direction, "I'm going to be keeping guests at the manor until further notice. This is Madam Granger and her son…_Hugo_. If you'd please, I'd like you to help her settle them into the wife's quarters and the connected nursery."

For a moment it was clear the elf was fighting back tears of joy, a rather pointless show of restraint considering the way it flung itself at Hermione's feet in the next breath, kissing her the tops of her shoes like she was the Muggle queen. She smiled down at his servant graciously, but followed it with a pleading look for help. He did nothing to stop the worshiping elf, getting a good laugh at her discomfort…until the thing started talking.

"Master is finally declaring a Lady and an heir! We's hasn't had no babies in the Manor in _ages_ Mistress but we's has kept the little one's rooms clean and ready, yes we has. Even fought to keeps the ponies when Master Snape's wanted to sells them," Noodle jumped to her feet and gave the witch an appraising once over, "And so pretty! You'll make Master happy at night-"

"That's enough!" he cut in hastily. Remembering her place through the excitement, the house elf twisted her fingers nervously. Though Snape had never been physical or cruel with her or any of the Manor's other elves, the pureblood family that came before him kept them in line with an iron fist. 'Just…make sure they are tended to while I finish up here. I'll be home after meal time so see to it that she is feed in my absence."

Noodle nodded vigorously, brimming with pride at being entrusted with such an honor. The small beast grabbed hold of Granger's leg in preparation to transport them back to his estate.

"Be ready for me when I return home, Miss Granger," he grinned at the girl before the group popped out of sight.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

AN: I know that didn't have any smut in it. lol But if I didn't stop there it would have been way too long and the next chapter is going to be almost solely inappropriateness so hang in there. haha I guess I'm too long winded to write short chapters.

The reviews were so awesome and encouraging, cant thank you all enough.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and core personality traits are the property of J.K. I own nothing, nor do I plan on profiting from using her work. No copyright infringement is intended.

This is only half of the chapter but I"ve been MIA so long that I thought I'd post it so you didn't have to wait for me to finish up the second half before you got another update. 

In the last 4 months I ended a relationship, started talking to my high school sweetheart again, became engaged after 2 months of dating, and moved into a new apartment for the start of this school semester with my new fiancé in tow. 

Busy summer. I apologize. I'm back in school and will be better. 

**Alternative Payment; Plan Part 3**

He stayed in his potions lab far longer than was common for him, waiting until he would be safe in an assumption that his houseguests had retired to their quarters for the evening. Severus lived in subterfuge for so much of his life that he was brutally honest within the confines of his own mind, and thus was willing to recognize his eagerness to enjoy Miss Granger's company as soon as possible. Still, the idea of sitting across the dinner table from her and the child to share a communal meal felt uncomfortably domestic.

The carefully repressed wizard strode first to his personal rooms after arriving at his estate—bent on teasing himself with the promise of bedding the female for just a touch longer—but found they were not as empty as he had left them early that morning.

Pulling himself into the shadow of the doorway, he watched the scene and wondered what in the world the chit was doing in _his_ bed. He had never brought a witch into his heaven before; uninterested in inviting professional harlots into his home where they would undoubtedly try and help themselves to his valuables. The idea of allowing a whore to sully his sheets and go unchecked as he slept—the only time the man could be considered anything close to vulnerable—was a scenario less appealing than taking up his old teaching post at that hell they called Hogwarts.

So he was surprised at how much he fancied seeing the beautiful socialite comfortably tucked under his rich duvet.

She wasn't alone though, which was the reason for his hesitation.

The babe suckled her breast with so much enthusiasm that it produced a flurry of contented noises that had it's mother giggling as she watched him fondly, stroking his downy hair with a light finger. Severus thought fleetingly to Draco's praise of her maternal devotion and knew even that hadn't been proper accolades. It was unlikely either one of them had ever seen the amount of love in the eyes of their pureblood mothers that Hermione brimmed with as she gazed at the son she'd been abandoned to care for alone.

"Professor Snape was right, you know?" she cooed to the child, "You're a real glutton, little love. But that's perfectly fine. I'm just so glad we're going to be okay," she added so quietly it was a strain to hear it.

Severus rolled his dark eyes at her ability to call him by the title of her childhood after having taken him into her mouth so vigorously just days earlier. He noted the inclusion of herself in the statement—_we're going to be okay_—and though it was not _her_ who was terminally ill, it told of her inability to go on if the boy was lost.

"He's a bit hard around the edges but he's the most capable wizard I know. He'll take care of us," the beauty babbled on happily, as though she were talking to someone who fully understood her instead of a nursing four month old.

He stiffened at the certainty in her voice, unsure of the sensations it invoked within him. The long ostracized and distrusted man was sure no one had ever held so much confidence in his abilities and intentions. Instead of the usual annoyance he harbored for that blind Gryffindor trust, he felt a pang of guilt for the price he'd pressured her to pay for his services.

Not enough guilt to free her of the obligation, however. He now wanted the witch more than anything in the world worth coveting and there existed no other way for a man like him to claim such a treasure.

"And weren't the ponies just lovely? I know you're too little to appreciate them but maybe he'll allow us a visit when you're older…"

"He can _have_ the dung droppers. It was the elves that rallied to keep them," Severus drawled as he announced his presence by walking into the room, lest he overhear more of the girl's starry-eyed musings.

Granger started at his sudden appearance, her small body jerking with surprise. The movement popped the deep pink nipple of her full breast out of the babe's mouth and he gave a wail of irritation.

Even the shrill cry of the newborn couldn't damper the shot of lust that hit Severus at the sight over her perfect, exposed bosom. He wondered briefly how truly deprived one must be to grow hard over a nursing mother, but had never put much stalk in propriety.

"Severus! You scared me half to death," she chided as she worked to get her fussing son to latch back on.

His eyes narrowed at her nerve, even as he wondered how it could possibly still be a surprise to him, "May I remind you that you are currently making yourself comfortable in _my_ rooms, Miss Granger. I assure you, the wives' quarters are far from squalor."

Instead of looking properly chastised for invading his private domain, her pale face reddened with annoyance. "I would have loved to have been allow in my own bed but your elves all but forced me into yours," now he wasn't so sure that the heat in her cheeks wasn't a blush. "They were also very insistent that they dress me _fittingly_. I hadn't realized you'd made the whole manor aware of our… agreement," she sniffed.

Only the founder of S.P.E.W. would consider the elfin servants 'the whole manor'.

Now that his attention was directed accordingly, he realized his comforter was wrapped strategically around her lower body to protect her modesty, only the tiny straps and bust of the most provocative little white negligee were left visible.

Severus nearly laughed, "I'm a great deal kinder to them than the previously family of the manor, if you can believe it. I told them nothing, but I assume they took it upon themselves to… prepare the witch I brought home."

They were meddlesome little blighters but, looking at the divinely clad female, he couldn't say he was unappreciative of their efforts.

Hermione squirmed, "Speaking of which, I don't think this is going to work as originally planed…"

It was anger he felt at her words, to be sure, but there was also a great deal of embarrassment and disappointment. In his office, the stunning young mother had looked the appropriate level of indignant at his offer but kissed him with a passion that had seemed far beyond obligatory. It had given the wizard a sense of masculine pride that had long been denied to him, but now… Was he so unappealing to her that she'd back out before _subjecting_ herself to him?

His face darkened with a severity he hadn't had cause for in years. He wouldn't force her, if she couldn't bare it, but the girl would be out on her arse in sort order, "May I remind you that a contract has been signed, Granger…"

Her mouth popped open before forming a little 'o' of alarm. "I wasn't referring to _that_, sir!" she corrected hastily, "I'd _never_- I'm… fully prepared to fulfill the commitment I made to you," she added softly, demure.

The knot in his gut eased but believing the best of other's and their words wasn't a natural reaction of his. "Then what, pray tell, are you referring to, wench," he snapped.

Soft hearted as she was bright, the girl noticeably wilted at his hostility. Snape couldn't believe the jolt of remorse that bit at his mind for being the source of her upset. Clearly he had ejaculated his very ability to stay objective and detached during their brief first coupling.

"I only meant that Hugo is deathly frightened of your elves," she explained, huge gold eyes imploring, "They were meant to look after him while I'm indisposed but I don't see how that's going to work."

He managed to hold back a rather humiliating sigh of relief. "Just like a Gryffindor to fret over non-issues," he sat on the edge of the bed and peered at the feeding child. It was perplexing how normally prudish women become nonplussed with a bare breast the moment they attach an infant to it.

She harrumphed, "Tell me it's a _non-issue_ when he's screaming his fool head off and I'm out cold."

"He'll accustom himself to the elves, Granger," he dismissed, "Stop coddling the child or you'll end up with a boy as ill-equipped for life outside the womb as your spineless ex-husband."

It hadn't been his aim but he was quite pleased with himself when she grinned at him in conspiratorial kinship. She obviously held no residual fondness for the redheaded oaf. If he could just turn her against Potter, she might be worth her weight in that gold the wizarding world seemed to think she was made of.

"_However_," he continued, to put her at ease, "if it's necessary, I will see that the child is well cared for. Even if I need to hire a nanny that meets his advanced criteria."

Hermione smiled at him with something close to affection and he seemed incapable of looking away for several long beats of silence. The strange moment was only broken when the two became aware of a gentle rhythmic breathing and looked down to find Mini Granger had fallen asleep on the job.

"Do you mind if he stays in here with us?" she asked tentatively, "He's an excellent sleeper…"

He had intentions towards the witch that were not child appropriate but didn't want to separate the worried mother from her ailing baby and knew the alternative was sending them both away. Now that she was there, he very much wanted her company for the night. Severus thought years of marriage was the prerequisite to getting cock-blocked by offspring, but apparently not.

He gave a conflicted nod.

She whispered her genuine thanks, pushed the covers aside and dismounted the raised platform of the mattress with skilled, graceful movements that neither woke nor jostled the small burden against her chest.

Severus groaned in discomfort. His cock was thick and large and normally required a bit of time to accumulate the amount of blood needed to fill it completely. The vision of the most structurally flawless female he was sure he'd ever seen, padding across his room in a gown that just barely covered the swell of her pert little bum had his damned tool pulling the sustenance from his very veins with a speed he feared might stop his heart.

Perhaps Malfoy had been right about the perils of his advancing age.

For such a tiny thing, her legs held the slender divinity of women with a full head more height and he was certain no frighteningly thin model-type could claim such curvy, wide hips. The waves of chestnut hair she was once tormented for now wove like dark rivets of liquid flowing down to her narrow waist, its wild nature anchored by the length and weight of it alone.

The cold intellectual all at once discovered what it was about these creatures that had wizards bending over backwards to please them. Surely if she were to request the contents of his volt at that very moment he would sign it over willingly.

She seemed to sense his lust because she walked to the very far edge of the large space, partially obscured by an antique changing screen, before transfiguring a chair into a temporary crib for her little one. He was laid to sleep with a cuddle and a kiss and Severus was grateful for the one-way silencing spell she placed on the room's corner.

The tenuous control over the urge to immediately mate the witch was staggering but brought to mind one last item of business before the night's activities.

He fished a freshly brewed vile of pink potion out of his robes and held it out to her when she'd made her away back to him, "If you'd please."

Granger took only a second's glance at the liquid's color before recognizing the common household elixir. Her cheeks tinted to match, "I've already spelled myself to prevent… that," she said, stopping short of accepting the tiny bottle.

Severus snorted wryly, "Half of wizarding Britain and at least four of the Weasley litter owe their lives to the _reliability_ of such spells," he pressed it into her dainty palm, "Now be a good girl and drink."

"I trust this is your own work and safe for my milk," she grumbled petulantly as she popped the lid and tilted into her sweet mouth without bothering to wait for an answer. His former student knew he'd have thought of such things before even considering the prescription.

"It's not only safe but fully necessary. Begetting a child off you would be both exceptionally discourteous on my part-," she interrupted him with a sharp laugh, "-and a danger to you and the foetus when paired with the treatments you are about to undergo to cure your son."

"Must we pretend it isn't due to your fear of fathering, large nosed, bucktooth progeny," the cheeky witch snickered as she placed her spindly wand and the empty vile on the bedside table. "The taste is quiet nice though. I should have been buying my contraceptives from you."

His blood heated even further; discovering that he didn't care for the thought of this witch—_his witch,_ for the time being—needing protection from relations with another male. "They aren't high-end enough to make my inventory. This is the first I've prepared in some time," he ghosted a hand over the silk on her belly and drew her close, "Are you ready to make it worth my effort, princess?"

Again, she did not withhold her matrimonial-like affections; stepping between his legs and into his embrace at the bed's edge. "I'll do my best," she breathed, nose-to-nose. Her kiss held greater novelty than any well-versed sexual prowess would to him and he enjoyed it even more than he did the first time, when he hadn't been expecting it.

"I want to see you," he hissed out, frustrated by even the negligible slip of fabric between his fingertips and her flesh. "Let me see my prize, witch."

She took a shallow gulp of air and nodded courageously before stepping back to push the straps of her garment off her shoulders. It pooled at her feet right along with the rest of his resolve.

The girl stood as still as mouse under the gaze of a snake and he lavished in the opportunity it gave him to study her. Her body was a vision of feminine perfection; everything a man envisions in a mate while settling for the realities of mortal women. The narrowness of her waist contrasted beautifully with the heavy roundness of her breasts but was balanced by the most delectably pair of hips. A human hourglass.

She had the firmness, the radiant glow, that only youth and pure, God's given beauty could provide. Severus was willing to bet a fair amount of coin that the Dark Lord himself would second guess pureblood supremacy if he had been presented with such a specimen.

"Such a brave little girl," he crooned smoothly, "Posing so gloriously for me," he traced the sharp lines on her collar bone and she gasped prettily, "How does our noble warrior of the Light reign across the battle field but tremble when I bring her to my bed?"

"I think I can claim dueling Death Eaters to be my greater strength between the two," she whispered and leaned into him as he cupped one swollen breast.

The older man gave a rare grin at her responsiveness, "I'm not sure that's true, Miss Granger. If that keen mind of yours was an indicator of magical greatness I can only imagine the things you're going to do with this body," he gave her another reverent once over but halted the progression of his eyes when they found something amiss. He touched the slightly shimmering skin on the top of her hips and quirked a brow at the girl, "Something to hide, lioness? I'm shocked… I didn't take you for a supporter of glamours."

She looked suitably contrite at being caught, dropping her gaze to his thigh, "I have a few… stretch marks from my pregnancy. I never really noticed them until I considered our arrangement and I hadn't time to get a salve to heal them properly. I didn't want them to… dissuade you."

Though it was a violation of his rule that would ordinarily earn his ire, he said nothing to chastise but waved his palm over the area and canceled the simple concealment charm; an easy enough tasks to perform wandlessly. What _wasn't_ easy was even being able _see_ the marks she'd been trying to cover. Upon closer inspection, tiny silver lines decorated the pale skin there. They were lighter in color than the rest of her flesh and as thin as unicorn hair. Somehow, even these would-be imperfections were lovely.

Hermione searched his face for a reaction, tense.

"I think they're fitting."

Her eyes narrowed at him. "Because they're unsightly?" she guessed with a simper.

The attitude was such a Slytherin trait that it endeared her to him just a little further. He stroked the lines with the full care of a potions master's hands and felt her relax against him. "Because they're soft, feminine…" he murmured into her ear and noted her fluttering lids, "because no one but the gods should be as flawless as you are without them… because they tell anyone you bless with a glimpse of them that you're a healthy, fruitful young witch and there's nothing _unsightly_ about that."

"_Merlin_," she whimpered, a women as thoroughly aroused by words as she was by touches. He knew the baritones of his voice appealed to her. It was far from the grunting Weasley was capable of.

He drew her warm body flush with his, dropped open-mouthed kisses along her throat with tenderness he hadn't known he possessed but felt compelled to bestow upon her. The wizard's firm lips worked their way down her body until he had to maintain a firm hold on her bottom to keep her from collapsing. "But they aren't the only bits of you that have benefited from being a mother, are they, witch? I've wanted at these since you broke into my store and demanded my assistance."

"Oh Severus," she moaned and braced herself on his shoulders, a dab of embarrassment, "You need to be careful with those…I still have a lot of problems with leaking…they don't discriminate."

This was confirmed when he nipped gently at the darkly hued peak. Even the weak suction coated his tongue with the warm, nutty nourishment she provided. It was like nothing he'd ever experienced before and he held her so close that it was impossible to tell which of them was the one vibrating with pleasure. "You taste unbelievable," he growled, "Are you this sweet everywhere?"

The Golden Trio's princess was sin and purity, sedate and shameless... the kind of beauty wars were waged over. If his bias had caused him to assume Ronald Weasley entirely brainless before, he now _knew_ it to be true.

"Do you want this, Granger?" he pressed his swollen, cloth covered groin against her cunt. It was obscenely bare of both kickers and hair, her folds petite, "This is a business transaction but that hasn't kept you from drenching the front of my robes like a wanton."

She shivered but didn't shy away, "I do want you," she nodded into his neck, "I won't lie. It's been too long for me."

He sneered, "Its been a life time for you, wench. You haven't any idea what it will be like to have a real man inside you."

"Do real men make love with all their clothes on," she pulled back to ask shyly.

Severus got the impression she thought there a possibility that he'd just pull down his fly and take her quick and hard like one would a street whore against an alley wall. He again reminded himself that such a women required more care and warmth from a partner.

He patted the plush bed beside him, giving her firm bum a soft smack as she took his invitation and mounted the frame. A groan of profound need escaped him at the sight of her presented to him as her small body clambered up the raised piece of extravagant furniture. "Gods, I swear I'll have you from behind before this is over, little girl," he warned.

She turned and gave him a sassy little grin, lowering herself onto her back with arms propped up just enough to watch the wizard remove his robes under the same scrutiny he placed on her.

He hadn't expected to feel so self-conscious.

The miraculous war survivor was heavily muscled and cut like the strongest of men but he bore the a full arsenal of scars that came with living a life as hard as the one he'd suffered through. His back was a patchwork of marred skin and now that she'd asked, he had to acknowledge that she would be the first of his lovers to see him as he was—stripped of the severe black robes that repelled like armor.

He didn't make a show of it, nor did he have quite enough nerve to jump right in by spelling his clothes away. Severus opted to remove them as though he were not under the golden gaze of an angel of a woman. He listened with an impassiveness he wasn't fully in possession of for gasps or shrieks of horror as he exposed the ghastly panel of his chest—skin so damaged by dark magic that not Merlin himself had power enough to restore it—but none came.

The wizard was down to his briefs when her gentle caresses simultaneously startled and grounded him. In the recesses of his mind he knew it to be the most intimate contact he'd ever allowed between himself and another human being; much less this forty-five kilo ball of ridiculousness who would never cease to drive him insane in one way or another.

The pad of her finger traced an outline of a particularly dark blemish he couldn't fully remember acquiring, "I think they're fitting," she repeated his early sentiment.

He was wary of where she was going to go with such talk. That they were proper penance for his numerous wrong doings? That they marked his past with the blackness he'd chosen to spawn in? He couldn't hold thoughts he frequently had himself against her.

"Because they're unsightly?"

Hermione smiled sadly and pulled him down onto the bed, on top of her lithe little body so that he had to support his significant weight on his arms on either side of the girl to keep from hurting her. She brush the tip her button nose against his beak, "Because they _aren't_ soft," she grinned, lips curved like wicked little bows, "but neither are you…" the girl crooned to him, "Because no man who's lived through such darkness can be anything less than deserving of a second chance at light…"

"You're bleeding heart sentimentality is legendary," he bit out, the edge lost by the unusual cord of warmth he held for her.

She spread her thighs for him and he had the heady sensation of a perfect fit; hard muscle nestled in the softness of that perfect creature. The sensation of being a teen again, overwhelmed by passions he had no control of, registered in his mind, but it was dismissed an instant later. No, Severus was sure he'd never felt _this_. Lily Evans had been his hearts desire but he had come to realize that it was the boyhood hope of acceptance by someone so pure that had driven his fixation with her.

He wasn't sure what sure what the difference was exactly, as Granger was as pure and good as newly fallen snow—lack of virginity having no baring on that fact—but this was no pathetic pining of broken child; this was a mortal's yearning to connect with a goddess.


End file.
